Life Changes
by Lectermate
Summary: Hannibal and Clarice expecting??


Comments: This story is a continuation of the lives of Hannibal and Clarice after The Wedding. It is set in Buenos Aires, after the novel ' Hannibal.' I hope you enjoy it! All comments and/or suggestions are welcome. Please be patient with any errors or discrepancies. If you bring them to my attention I will correct them.   
  
Disclaimers: The characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling, and Mischa Lecter belong to Thomas Harris. I use them in this story with respect and affection, for pure enjoyment, not for profit.   
  
Life Changes  
  
  
Part I: Fifth Month Pleasures  
  
  
Hannibal watched the morning sunlight creep gradually across Clarice's body as she slept later than usual that Sunday morning. She must have kicked off the quilt during the night again and now lay curled against him on her side, her breathing tickling the hairs on his chest. He sighed contentedly, rearranging the quilt to cover her as much as possible without waking her. The morning air was decidedly cold and it wouldn't do for his darling to catch a chill, especially not in her condition. She was doing so much better now that she was in her second trimester and he would keep a watchful eye out to make sure nothing changed that.  
  
Five months ago when Clarice had told him the news, Hannibal had been delighted. Both had eschewed birth control from the beginning of their relationship, agreeing that if Clarice became pregnant they would welcome a child into their lives. Settling down into married life in Buenos Aires, Hannibal suspected she would become pregnant quickly. Sure enough three and a half months later, her symptoms started. Clarice began sleeping later in the mornings, was tired throughout the day (even with frequent naps), and fell asleep earlier in the evenings. Late night excursions to the opera or to concerts found her nodding off when the lights were down. At first he was annoyed, since she had never exhibited rude behavior in the past. Then he was puzzled and finally, concerned. Meals often lay partially eaten or completely untouched. Hannibal tried to coax her with her favorite dishes. He did better with light dishes rather than heavy ones. Too spicy or too rich sauces upset her stomach. She still enjoyed rare meats, fish and seafood and especially liked fresh fruits and vegetables, so he made sure to serve a variety of them often. Alcohol made her increasingly ill was dropped from her meals.   
  
Hannibal, his suspicions aroused by these changes, became quite sure when his Clarice, usually an even-tempered woman, began exhibiting abrupt mood swings, frequent crying spells and irrational behavior. He questioned her about what was troubling her, but she became even more upset, stating that she had no idea what was wrong and felt like she was "going crazy." Finally, when she threw an expensive antique vase in a fit of pique, he tactfully asked about her last period and insisted that she go to the clinic to get a blood test to confirm his diagnosis. Clarice returned and, throwing her arms around him, burst into tears of relief. The happy couple decided to celebrate the rest of the evening in bed.   
  
Clarice opened her eyes and drowsily blinked at the sunlight.   
  
"Good morning, Clarice. Did you sleep well?"  
  
She snuggled closer against his warm body, loving the feel and smell of him.  
  
"Mmmm. Yes, thank you, my love."  
  
  
"Any dreams?"  
  
"You mean bad ones?"  
  
"Mmmmm."  
  
"No, in fact I had a rather nice dream about you and our son."  
  
"Our son? Are you saying you think it's a boy?"  
  
She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and yawned.   
  
"I don't know! I'm just telling you in the dream we had a boy, and he was about three years old. And you both were sitting at the piano, he was playing...I think it was Bach ...and you seemed very pleased because he was doing so well."  
  
"I must have been pleased. Our son showed definite signs of being a musical prodigy if he played Bach at the tender age of three." Hannibal chuckled, absently stroking her thick, auburn hair.  
  
Clarice, caressing her hand over his broad, comforting chest, felt his laughter and smiled. She turned her swollen body and lay atop him, eye to eye. His maroon orbs caught and held her whole.  
  
"What can I do for you, Clarice?" he whispered, wanting to hear her say what he already knew by her scent.  
  
"You know what I want," she whispered seductively in reply. His lips tingled from the vibration of her breath.   
  
Hannibal's hands traced the bones of her spine down her back, caressing the fine down above her glorious ass, where they warmly came to rest.   
  
He waited a few beats before murmuring in that same quite way.  
  
"You know I'll do whatever you ask, but you must *ask* me first."  
  
A few more beats, just losing themselves in each other's eyes, letting the delicious tension slowly build.   
  
"Will you make love to me, Hannibal?"  
  
He pressed his erection against her groin in answer.  
  
"Oh, yes, Clarice... I will. In fact, nothing would give me greater pleasure!"  
  
Clarice shivered as he let his fingers lazily trace a pathway back up to her face, as if discovering her form for the first time.   
  
The lovers' breathing synchronized now. Their fiery gaze remained locked. The slightest movement of one body was registered and met by the other. This was truly an exotic game of desire. Clarice closed her lips over his, delicately tasting and exploring his mouth with her small tongue. Hannibal lay quietly watching her exquisite face hover above him before responding to her soft mouth with his own.  
  
Encircling her with his arms, her lover flipped her gently onto her back, moving between her legs. He began kissing his way down her body, moving first to her sensitive breasts, where he sucked the dark nipples until they were rock-hard. She gasped and moaned, stroking his neck, pulling his head closer. Finding his own arousal increasing along with hers, he focused on a spot just above her left breast, where he bit and sucked until he tasted the unmistakable metallic tinge of her blood. Then he moved a few inches to the right and repeated the process.  
  
Clarice yelped with pleasure, panting harder. Hungrily he gave her neck and shoulders equal attention.  
  
Hannibal examined the marks and smiled, satisfied with his work.  
  
Clarice was delirious. His hands and mouth were everywhere, searing her with their heat.   
  
"Hannibal, please...more, I love you so much!"  
  
"Clarice, my darling,"her husband growled as he nipped and kissed his way down her stomach, settled between her legs. Her scent was driving him mad. He brought his hungry mouth to her wetness and began his frenzied attack, giving it his whole attention.   
  
"YEEEESSSSS!"Clarice screeched, raising her legs for him to have better access.  
  
"That's my girl!"  
  
Hannibal grinned devilishly, enjoying her responses as he licked and sucked the sweet juices from her center. Each stroke of his soft tongue on her pink bud released a moan and a shudder. Inserting two long fingers into her swollen opening, he began to message her insides while he continued.   
  
Clarice wailed as he expertly finger-fucked her.  
  
"Louder, my dear!"  
  
"HANNIBAL...PLEASE...!"  
  
"Looouder..."  
  
She was sweating and writhing now, almost at her peak.   
  
Enjoying the game of power, Hannibal abruptly stopped. Clarice, confused with the sudden lack of attention, looked up and whimpered in frustration.  
  
"Do you want me inside you now, Clarice?" he hissed. " Do you want to feel how hard I am for you?"  
  
Clarice wiggled and moaned her assent. "Please...I can't wait any more! Come inside me now!!"  
  
Hannibal's maroon eyes gleamed. He was rock hard and ready to burst. This delicious game was pushing him to his limits as well. "Whatever you wish...you need only tell me!"  
  
Taking her cue, her husband inched his way back up her body, careful to avoid touching her hypersensitive bud. He would be inside her when she came. Positioning himself at her at her wet cleft, he slowly pushed into her tight little body until he had not only filled her but deliciously stretched her quite far as well. Then he pulled almost completely out before pushing in again, this time with more force. Clarice groaned, wrapping her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders. Their lips met again and Hannibal pushed his tongue into her mouth, matching its thrusts with those of his hips. As he gradually increased his rhythm, he felt his darling approach her release. He doubled the force of his onslaught, knowing she liked it rough, especially at her climax. She tensed, pulling him deeper inside, then cried:"HAANNNIBBAALLLL!" As her body spasmed rhythmically, she clung to him, releasing her moans and her juices to him simultaneously. The image of her writhing form beneath him sent him crashing over his own peak, and he gasped "Clarice!" pouring his hot seed deep inside her.   
  
Time resumed and reality crept gradually into his dream state with the sensation of her breath tickling his ear. Then a gentle but insistent whisper:  
  
"Hannibal...darling, wake up..."  
  
"Mmmm..."  
  
"Let's have breakfast...I'm starving!"  
  
Clarice was still positioned beneath his body when her soft voice interrupted his post-coital lethargy. He languidly opened one eye, raised himself onto his elbows and regarded her with amusement   
  
" *Hungry* again, Clarice? I was under the distinct impression that I had sated your appetite. Are you trying to tell me something?"  
  
Clarice rolled her eyes and they both laughed, knowing how well they always satisfied one another.  
  
"I have more than one appetite, you know, doctor. And this one centers around my stomach, which is decidedly empty right now."  
  
"Oh, you do and it is, hmmm? Well, I suppose we'd best do something about that since I can't have you wasting away before my eyes."  
  
"I doubt that in my present condition, there's much chance of that happening! In fact, my body seems to be heading in the other direction!"  
  
Clarice sighed contentedly as Hannibal pulled out, lifted his body off hers and rose from the bed. Still he remained standing there, studying her intently; reluctant to leave her side, as if by doing so she might disappear and thus end this idyllic life they had carved out for themselves. Hannibal blinked. Sometimes he, too, had irrational thoughts. He brushed it away, irritated. She was here, safe and well protected by him, and nothing would alter that as long as he had breath in his body. Contemplating the issue at hand, Hannibal proposed a simple, practical choice that he hoped would please her.   
  
"So, my darling wishes food. Very well, I'll shower and then fix breakfast or, if you'd prefer, we could go out for brunch. Think about what would satisfy your 'other' appetite while I'm washing up. How does that sound to you?"  
  
"Perfect. Just like you!"  
  
Clarice's stretched languidly, enjoying his eyes on her.  
  
"Do I please you, my love?" She teased, waiting for the words she loved to hear drop from his lips.  
  
He captured her image whole and stored it away for a later place of honor in his sketchbook.  
  
"Yes, Clarice," he intoned gently,"You please me very much!"   
  
Hannibal shook his head and smiled at her foolishness. Then leaning over the bed, he growled and playfully nipped at her lips before heading for the bathroom and the shower.   
  
Clarice watched as his handsome, lithe body disappeared into the bathroom.  
  
A few seconds later he heard her footsteps padding behind him.   
  
"I think I'd like to join you in the shower if you don't mind, Hannibal!"   
  
It was going to be a long morning.  
  
Part II: Seventh Month Pressures  
  
Hannibal reclined on the sofa, pillow behind his head, reading one of the various newspapers he insisted on buying on their daily walks when Clarice came in holding a glass of ice tea to her lips. Seven months into the pregnancy did nothing but enhance her beauty in his eyes. Everything about her radiated health and happiness. He moved to a sitting position, closed the paper, and studied her swollen body before letting his eyes rest on her face. She was clearly troubled again, he could tell by the two tiny lines creasing her forehead and by the faint smell of anxiety mingling with her own unique scent. He waited for the inevitable question, although his darling tried unsuccessfully to mask it from him.   
  
"And what fascinating events are you reading about?" She sighed as she lowered her body next to his, sinking into the plush cushions.   
  
"Clarice, world affairs are rarely fascinating, just tedious and banal. Would you like to hear about some of those?"   
  
Hannibal waited and when he received no answer, he decided to confront her gently. "Or would you prefer a rundown on the whereabouts of one of the FBI's ten most wanted list?"  
  
A tear escaped her closed eyes and ran slowly down her cheek as she nodded mutely. Her husband watched it trail down her face before leaning in to capture its salty essence on his lips.  
  
"Well, you may be interested to know," Hannibal intoned thoughtfully, putting his arm around her and pulling her to rest against him," that I have now 'officially' been sighted in Copenhagen, Zurich and Nice. That comes to a grand total of five times in the last three months."  
  
"You get around, doctor," Clarice made a weak attempt at humor.   
  
"I certainly do," he nodded chuckling.  
  
His wife absently wiped her face with her hand as she whispered:  
  
"Nothing close by, though, right?"  
  
Clarice's peace of mind was of paramount importance to him, especially with the impending birth of their child. Any undue tension would only serve to put her at risk (her blood pressure, which he monitored scrupulously, already a bit higher than he would have liked). Hannibal, therefore, maintained an atmosphere of tranquility around there home as much as possible. Mild exercise in the form of morning walks helped to elevate her mood, without tiring her too much. Days were punctuated by short shopping excursions into town (an activity she dearly loved) and nights by occasionally dining out or by attending the town's cultural performances. Balance in all things was best; he found that it kept her on an emotionally even keel.   
  
Over the last few weeks, however, his darling had begun to exhibit an irrationally overblown concern for his safety. She appeared anxious when he needed to go into town without her and nervous even when he encouraged her to accompany him. Hannibal was bewildered and then concerned by this new behavior. His dear wife was not a clinging vine. So, one morning at breakfast, after a particularly cryptic discussion on the merits of bulletproofing his Jag, and after much coaxing (his darling could sometimes be as stubborn as a stone), Hannibal finally uncovered what was bothering her. Poor Clarice saw danger lurking everywhere, fueled by her fear of losing him and the happiness and love they had both waited so long to achieve together. He realized that on some deeper unconscious level she was also afraid that their child would grow up without a father just as she had done. Hannibal, preferring directness and honesty, insisted on dealing with these fears immediately as he saw them surface, before Clarice had a chance to obsess over them. With quiet authority, he offered her repeated assurances that he would take no unnecessary chances where their safety was concerned. Then he patiently presented her with a long litany of 'why' and 'how' he was accomplishing that.  
  
"No, nothing close, my love," he murmured soothingly, his mouth lightly pressed against her ear while his hand caressed her hair. "Clarice, you know that I planned carefully and researched thoroughly before we settled here and I remain completely vigilant concerning our safety."  
  
He stopped speaking and raised her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. He studied her reaction before continuing, assuring himself he was indeed getting through to her.   
And when he spoke again, his voice was soft and even but firm.   
  
"We have ample security systems in place throughout the property. You yourself chose the excellent alarm system for our home. Cameras maintain a complete view of the grounds. The gates are monitored and secure at all times. Personally, I'm quite aware of the dangers that could befall me and I take every precaution to protect myself, especially when I must leave you." The Harpy appeared and gleamed as he tapped it on her knee. " "My freedom was hard won and, rest assured, I will not relinquish * it* or my life with you without a fight. And although I appreciate your concern, Clarice, I'll not live in a state of 'siege mentality', even for you, my dear. Do you understand?"  
  
Hannibal paused for the full effect of his words to sink in.   
  
A bit more gently now. "Clarice, you really must stop torturing yourself with these thoughts of imminent doom. Trust me. I'm not leaving you, my dear, I promise. I'm here for the duration...and I'll watch over both you and the baby as I always have. Hmmm?"   
  
Hannibal saw his wife's acceptance of and trust in the truth of his words reflected back to him in her clear blue eyes and was satisfied that, for the time being, she was satisfied. He sighed. Undeniably, marriage and prospective parenthood provided rich experiences and he would certainly never consider giving up either one (he had waited too long for both!), but sometimes they also proved frustrating and tedious...even *his* patience had its limits! He knew, however, that these minor difficulties were not insurmountable. In fact he was counting on them bringing he and Clarice even closer together as their relationship matured. *Hard work for us both! * he thought ruefully and smiled.   
  
Hannibal was brought out of his reverie by their baby's foot pushing against his side and then kicking twice. Raising an eyebrow, he moved his hand over Clarice's distended belly and waited. Sure enough, he felt more rapid kicks and then, over on the other side, an elbow poked out briefly.   
  
Clarice laughed. "Someone's awake!"   
  
Hannibal grinned and studied the movements in wonder.  
  
"Isn't that uncomfortable? I can't imagine being pummeled from the inside! And at all hours of the day and night, too! Most rude, I'd say!"  
  
That made Clarice laugh even harder.  
  
"Hannibal believe me, you have no idea!"  
  
"Mmmmm....I'm glad, too!" he teased as he rubbed her stomach.  
  
"Well, let's see how this little one is positioned today, shall we?"  
  
This was a new, intimate ritual they enjoyed daily. Her doctor-husband knelt before her and moved his hands expertly over her abdomen. Pressing gently here and there, he then took her hands and placed them at different positions, encouraging her to press and feel along with him.   
  
"Here's a shoulder and an arm...and here's the head ...down here by your pelvis..."  
  
"The head's down already? I thought that only happened just before birth?"  
  
Hannibal looked up and met her gaze thoughtfully.  
  
"Certainly right before birth, but babies turn many times throughout pregnancy."  
  
He focused once again on his explorations.  
  
"Here's the hip and leg...and...yes...here's the back...do you feel the curve around here?...follow it down now...and here's the shoulder again."  
  
Clarice grinned and bit her lower lip, thrilled with the reality of this little creature growing inside her. And as she watched Hannibal's enthusiasm, she felt complete confidence in her husband's abilities and in their mutual decision that he deliver their child.   
  
"So, there we are, everything seems to be progressing nicely."   
  
Hannibal leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on her belly.  
  
"Our baby is head down, lying in a position slightly curved towards the front..."  
  
Another strong series of kicks. He chuckled, raised his maroon eyes to hers merrily and added. "...and very active!"  
  
Part III: Birth and Beyond  
  
Silence except for the occasional sound of water moving. Clarice lay back in the bathtub, eyes closed, a small pillow cushioning her head. Her breathing was slow and even. The warm water covering her now-large belly soothed the pain. Hannibal sat quietly next to her, one hand resting lightly on her stomach. In his other hand he held his wristwatch, glancing at it now and then with each new contraction, then noting the length of time in between.   
  
Clarice's labour had begun seven hours ago. She had been complaining throughout the day of a lower back pain annoying enough that even Hannibal's back rub didn't help. Then later that evening after a light dinner, Hannibal had been playing the harpsichord while Clarice rested on the sofa, when the pain became more severe and couldn't be ignored any more. He'd taken her upstairs to the comfortable room that they had prepared ahead of time for the delivery, where she would remain until after the baby was born. All the necessary equipment that he might need was there, discretely hidden away so as not to disturb his wife, and the hospital was only ten minutes away in case of emergency.   
  
Back labor was difficult, and Clarice needed to conserve her strength as much as possible. Hannibal played labour coach, focusing her on breathing through each contraction, and reminding her to relax her body, vigilantly spotting any tension and massaging it away.   
  
After six hours, Clarice was only three centimeters dilated. Hannibal, realizing that this had the potential of turning into a long labour, offered her Demerol, but she refused.   
  
"No, Hannibal, no drugs!" She insisted, shaking her head.  
  
Her husband watched her struggle through another contraction before he replied.   
  
"Clarice, I'll respect your wishes in this as long as I think your capable of delivering this baby on your own. I must tell you however, I'll do what I think best to ensure the safety and health of both you and the child. Right now I want you to rest as much as possible between contractions. Try to conserve your strength."  
  
Clarice nodded her agreement. "Do you think it would be all right to have a warm bath? It might help relax me."  
  
Hannibal considered for only a moment.  
  
"I think that's an excellent idea, my dear. I see no reason why you cannot relax in the tub rather than in bed, if you think it would help you, as long as the water is not too hot."  
  
So, after he ran a warm tub for her, Hannibal helped Clarice into it and sat beside her, keeping a close watch on her comfort level and on her pains. They sat quietly together, communicating primarily through touch, with only an occasional word to break the stillness. After topping off the water several times to keep her from getting chilled, another two hours had passed and the doctor thought it best for her dry off and return to bed. He wanted to check her progress. Silently he was considering breaking her water to move things along a bit, but he was unwilling to broach this idea to his wife just yet. Better to see how far she was dilated before making that decision.   
  
After helping her back to bed, Hannibal waited for the next contraction. When it began, he gently inserted his gloved fingers and probed inside her. Clarice moaned and winced at the invasion, wishing he would remove his hand and leave her alone. The doctor understood her discomfort and, patting her thigh, murmured:  
  
"I know this isn't pleasant, Clarice, even though I'm being as gentle as I can. Try to relax and breathe and it will be over in a minute."  
  
Clarice closed her eyes and concentrated on his instructions. When she opened them again, his examination was over and he was studying her intently, his concern evident.  
  
"Are you all right, my dear?"  
  
"Fine... I'm fine." She tried to smile.  
  
Hannibal took a deep breath.  
  
"Clarice I'm afraid you're still only four and a half centimeters dilated. That's in a little over eight hours. I've decided to break your water to bring on hard labour. This means the contractions will become stronger and closer together. Hopefully, once this happens, you'll dilate quickly. Then, when you're fully dilated you can begin pushing. You and I will both know when it's time for that."  
  
"Hannibal, the baby's all right, isn't it? It's not in any danger?" Clarice began to worry.   
  
Hannibal quickly moved to reassure her.   
  
"No, no, no....not to worry. The baby's fine...so far. I've kept a close watch on the heart rate and its well in the safe zone. There are no discernable signs of stress. But we want to keep it that way, all right? Relax and trust me."  
  
The doctor brought out several large towels and after helping her raise her pelvis slightly, arranged them beneath her. Clarice watched him once again open her legs and reach inside her. She jumped at his touch.   
  
"Now relax, Clarice, this won't hurt, I promise ...you're going to feel some pressure...hold still......there!"   
  
Clarice felt the wetness gush between her legs. Hannibal removed the soaked towels and dried her off with another.   
  
"How are you doing? Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes, I'm okay, I guess....Hannibal, I really want this to be over."  
  
Her husband sat down next to her on the bed and held her hand. Leaning forward he kissed her gently on the lips.  
  
"I know," he murmured softly. There was nothing more he could say.  
  
Taking a cool, damp cloth he wiped her face and neck.  
  
"Ice chips?"  
  
"Mmmm..yes, please."  
  
Clarice was crunching the ice when the next contraction came. It came so hard she thought she would split in two. Unable to concentrate on anything but the white-hot pain, all she could do was scream. The sound of Hannibal's voice finally broke through her panic and she struggled to grab hold of it-for it was a cool sound of comfort and strength.   
  
What was he saying to her? 'Don't fight the pain? Breathe through it?? Tensing your body makes it hurt more???'  
  
She closed her eyes as the contraction receded and lay there limply. After what seemed like only moments, another one slammed her. Panicking, Clarice listened for Hannibal's soothing tones, grabbed hold of them and allowed him to guide her through it. The contraction ebbed. She felt the slight sting of the needle as the doctor injected her with the Demerol. This time she didn't argue. Clarice felt herself begin to gently float, as if she were back in the warm water of her bath.   
  
"Hannibal, I can't do this..."  
  
"Yes, you can, Clarice...."  
  
She shook her head. "Nooooo...."  
  
She felt his cool hand stroke her forehead.  
  
"Yes, my dear...listen to me...just get through one contraction at a time...I'll help you..."  
  
And so it went for the next four hours. The Demerol calmed his patient and helped her rest, while Hannibal patiently coaxed and encouraged her through each new wave. Examining her periodically, the doctor was pleased with her progress. Finally, he determined it was time for her to begin pushing.  
  
"Clarice, look at me....that's my girl!...on the next contraction I want you to push on my count...remember to bear down as hard as you can until I say *stop*, all right?"  
  
Hannibal knew his wife was extremely weak and hoped she would have enough strength to push effectively. Forceps were to be avoided- he did not want to risk damage to the infant's cranium. He decided that if it came to the point that he needed to further intervene, he would give her an epidural to carry he through the rest of the delivery. She would still be awake and capable of following his instructions. If he felt it was a real emergency, he would sedate her and do a c-section.   
  
Clarice never ceased to surprise him, however. She gathered internal resources and, with great determination, used every contraction to it's fullest: pushing on cue, waiting, then pushing again. Less than three hours later and with one final yell, his wife bore down hard and Hannibal guided their child out into the world.   
  
Hannibal, tired but happy, sat quietly in a chair next to the bed, watching his wife sleep. Once the baby had emerged, Clarice had lost consciousness almost immediately. He had been torn-needing to tend to their newborn, but all the while wanting to give his wife his full attention. After finding no signs of extensive hemorrhaging and after making sure her vital signs were within an acceptable range, the doctor was relieved to find that Clarice's fainting was primarily due to exhaustion. He quickly finished tending to her and let her sleep. Then Hannibal moved to examine his tiny daughter-first cleaning her, then measuring her and taking her vital statistics, before wrapping her in a soft blanket and placing her snuggly in a cradle with a low light positioned over it for extra warmth.  
  
Hannibal, the doctor, sat monitoring both patients, while Hannibal, the man, enjoyed gazing in wonder at the two females in his life. The youngest stirred and opened her eyes-a deep, blue-violet as Mischa's had been. He felt a tug at his heart at the memory of his sister. But Mischa was of the past, and his daughter was of the present. She was not a replica, but an original-her own person, with a bright future ahead and with two parents to love and care for her. Hannibal rose and gently took her in his arms. He sat down again, studying her intently. Already he saw intelligence in her gaze. Her proud father took in her round face topped with wisps of dark hair and her small compact body. And he smiled with satisfaction as the tiny left fist with the perfectly replicated middle digit closed around his own finger. The rarest form of polydactyly.  
  
  
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